


Journey to the Past

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter disappeared without a trace after the Final Battle. Five years later, a reward is being offered for anyone who can find Harry. Naturally, Draco Malfoy holds auditions to find the perfect Harry lookalike to train, so that he can claim the reward money. Unfortunately, the auditions don’t go so well, but then Draco runs into a mysterious man named Henry, who looks the spitting image of Harry Potter, if only he had the scar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journey to the Past

**Author's Note:**

> This submission is part of HD Smoochfest on Livejournal. The theme this year is Media Remix, which invited participants to "remix" the story from a Book, Movie, Television Show. The author/artist will be revealed at the end of the fest. 
> 
> This was created for Prompt Number: M95  
> Original Work Name: Anastasia
> 
> Author's Notes: Firstly, thank you to the mods for granting me extra time to finish this. Secondly, thank you to my beta for her hard work and her patience (any remaining mistakes are my own). And finally, thank you for the prompter for a wonderful prompt. I’ve loved Anastasia since I was a child, so I just had to write this. The title comes from the song in the movie.

**X**

_2 nd May, 1998_

“Look, a Blibbering Humdinger!” Luna shouted, providing a distraction for Harry as promised.

Harry slipped his Invisibility Cloak around himself and made his way through the Great Hall.

He passed by happy reunited families, and people mourning for the loved ones they would never see again. It was all too much for Harry – he needed to be alone.

He spared a glance at Ginny and Mrs Weasley, but decided against going to them. They needed each other right now, mother and daughter. Harry almost called out for Ron and Hermione, but decided against it at the last second. No matter how much he wanted to talk to them, Harry wasn’t sure if it was the right time.

Instead, Harry strode briskly out of the Great Hall, but not before noticing the eyes of Draco Malfoy following his invisible form.

Ignoring Malfoy, Harry pressed on, allowing his feet to carry him to wherever he needed to be. That ended up being the corridor in front of the now ruined Room of Requirement. Harry could still hear the fire burning behind the large wooden doors, and his heart clenched as a vivid image of bright orange flames flashed through his mind.

“I never did thank you properly for saving me,” a voice said from behind Harry, and he recognised it immediately as Malfoy’s. “So thank you.”

Harry shrugged his Invisibility Cloak off, somehow not surprised that Malfoy had known where to find him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save Crabbe,” Harry told Malfoy sincerely.

A flicker of raw emotion washed over Malfoy’s face for just a moment, but that was all the time Harry needed to see how much pain Malfoy was in over the death of his friend.

“I know you would have if you could,” Malfoy muttered quietly, bowing his head.

“I, er, still have your wand if you want it back,” Harry said after a moment’s silence, reaching into his pocket to pull out the wand. He offered it to Malfoy. “I’d like to fix mine with it first, but other than that, I don’t want it anymore.”

“I don’t want it either,” Malfoy answered quickly, glancing nervously at the wand outstretched in Harry’s hand.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but a shrill voice cut him off.

“Is that the blood of younglings I smell?” a woman cackled from just around the corner, and Harry instinctively threw his Invisibility Cloak over Malfoy to hide him.

Harry hushed Malfoy when he made a sound of protest, and turned to face the direction the voice came from, holding his wand threateningly.

An ugly old woman came into view, swamped in raggedy, dark grey robes. Her face was covered in warts, and her hair was grey and tangled – most definitely a hag.

Harry supposed anyone could have made their way into Hogwarts once the wards fell.

“Oh, it’s you,” the hag said excitedly, leering at Harry. “Come to be alone, have you?”

“Yes, so if you don’t mind?” Harry retorted, keeping his wand aimed, but not wanting to curse the hag just yet. Hags weren’t much of a threat, and Harry had had enough of mindless violence; he would only curse her if necessary.

“That’s a powerful wand you have there, Boy,” the hag stated, eyeing the wand greedily. Harry felt Malfoy shift behind him. “I heard you saying you didn’t want it anymore, and who can blame you? I think you deserve a break from all that magic.”

A cruel smile formed on the hag’s face, and Harry had _‘Stupefy’_ on the tip of his tongue, when the hag clicked her fingers and intense pain flared across Harry’s forehead.

His wand fell to the ground with a clatter and Harry dropped to his knees, groaning in agony. He was barely aware of the hag fleeing, as Malfoy tore the Cloak off and shot a hex at her – the blinding pain was too much, and Harry could feel blood dripping down his face.

“Merlin!” Malfoy exclaimed, dropping to the floor beside Harry. “We need to get you to a-”

To a what, Harry didn’t get to hear, because heavy footsteps were heard just around the corner from them in the same direction the hag had left.

“Wands out!” a voice shouted. “We won’t let any wandering brats escape.”

“Death Eaters,” Malfoy murmured quietly, and he quickly pulled something out of his pockets and pressed it into Harry’s hand. “You have to leave; wait where you are, and I’ll send someone for you. _Portus.”_

The Portkey activated instantly, tugging heavily at Harry’s stomach and making his world spin in a blur of grey and white.

As the world straightened, Harry fell to the ground; bright green underneath his fingers.

The pain in his forehead was ebbing away now, but he felt strange, like his skin was throbbing all over his body.

Harry grimaced and shakily got to his feet, which he soon realised was a mistake. His legs weren’t able to support him and he fell once more.

He felt a sudden pain as something hard collided with his head, and then his world went black.

**X <**

_3 rd May, 1998_

_HARRY POTTER MISSING_

_Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has been announced as missing, following his defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named yesterday afternoon._

_Rogue Death Eaters were discovered at Hogwarts after the Battle had ended, however it is not known if they had any part in Potter’s disappearance._

_Potter’s friends say that his disappearance is very out of character, and are urging anyone with information to come forward._

_*_

_19 th November, 2001_

_GINNY WEASLEY SEPERATES FROM RODERICK PRYCE_

_Ginny Weasley, Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, has announced the end of her relationship with fellow Quidditch player Roderick Pryce, the Beater for the Caerphilly Catapults. The pair had dated for two years after meeting at a charity fundraiser._

_Weasley once dated Harry Potter, and many have speculated that he may have been the reason behind the split, but Weasley strongly denied these claims._

_“There will always be a place in my heart for Harry,” Weasley announced, “but that isn’t the reason that Roderick and I broke up. We simply fell out of love.”_

_No trace of Harry Potter has ever been found since he went missing three years ago, and investigations are still on-going._

_*_

_5 th October, 2003_

_REWARD OFFERED FOR ANY WHO CAN FIND HARRY POTTER_

_In a shocking development, the Ministry of Magic are offering a 3000 Galleon reward for anybody who can find Harry Potter, who disappeared over five years ago._

_Potter’s childhood friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, will be questioning anybody who is brought forward to prevent fraudulent claims._

_Weasley and Granger are engaged to be married on the 5 th December, 2003, and would like to find Potter before their wedding. They strongly believe that Potter is still alive, despite recent theories that suggest Potter may have committed suicide. _

_Anyone with information is asked to contact the Auror department, quoting ‘Potter disappearance investigation’._

**X**

Henry pulled his tatty coat closer around himself, rubbing his gloved hands together. Unfortunately, his gloves were fingerless, which left his fingers vulnerable to the cold.

It was late October and winter was definitely on its way.

The other people at the bus stop gave him a wide berth, and Henry couldn’t say he blamed them. With his tatty clothes, straggly hair, and pale skin, he looked a lot like a drug addict.

While Henry wasn’t a drug addict – he had never taken drugs at all, as far as he knew – he did work for a drug dealer.

Just over five years ago, Henry had woken up in a hospital in Inverness, with no idea of who he was. All he had was a strange cloak that had the words ‘Property of H. P.’ written inside.

One of the nurses had told him that he looked like a Henry, and that had unofficially become his name. He had taken the surname ‘Perth’, part of the street name that the hospital was situated on, but he rarely used that name. He was just Henry.

He had been found in the wilderness on the outskirts of the city with a head injury caused by hitting his head on a rock. That was the presumed reason for his memory loss, but the hospital staff weren’t able to help him get his memories back. After leaving the hospital, Henry decided he needed to get away and hitched a ride to Nairn.

Henry really did try hard to find a job, but he didn’t have proof of any qualifications or work experience, so his efforts were fruitless. Forced into rough sleeping on the streets, Henry became friends with a homeless woman who introduced him to her drug dealer, Johnny.

Johnny took a liking to Henry and took him on-board. Henry had to uncover any dealers trying to get into Johnny’s territory and hunt down anyone who got behind on payments. Johnny had larger, more threatening men to actually deal with those people, but Henry’s skinny frame and quick reflexes meant he was perfect for the sneaking around part.

In return, Henry had been offered a shared room in Johnny’s house and got a small wage every so often.

However, Johnny had bragged about Henry too loudly and a dealer called Mick, who lived in the nearby town of Elgin, challenged Johnny to a Poker match with Henry up for grabs.

Needless to say, Johnny lost and Henry had been given a handful cash so he could get the bus to Elgin.

But as Henry waited for the bus, his thoughts began to dwell on his worries about his new job. Despite his criminal ways, apart from gambling him away, Johnny had always treated Henry nicely. Henry’s clothes were shabby and his room was always cold, but he hadn’t lived a bad life and there was no guarantee that Mick was going to be anywhere near as friendly.

Besides, waiting for the bus was giving Henry the opportunity to people watch, and seeing all the happy families and loving couples was filling him with a desperate need. Henry had no idea who his family was, and he wondered if they had been happy like the families on the street. No missing persons report had ever been filed for anyone matching his description, and he wondered if his family missed him or if they were even alive.

Henry got those sort of thoughts sometimes; usually late at night when he couldn’t sleep, but now they were bombarding him, creating a desperate ache in his heart.

Family or no family, Henry could still make something of himself and he had the opportunity now. He could choose to get the bus to Elgin and work for Mick or he could use the money to go elsewhere and start again.

On the other side of the road, a bus was coming up reading ‘Inverness’ on the front, and that made up Henry’s mind.

Ignoring the beeping of car horns, Henry sprinted across the road and stretched out his arm to let the bus driver know to stop. He grinned as he stepped onto the bus and passed over the money.

“Single to Inverness, please,” Henry stated, feeling too exhilarated to be offended by the dirty looks the other passengers were giving him.

He had woken up in a hospital in Inverness five years ago and that seemed as good a place as any to try again. Maybe Henry had only ended up in Inverness by chance before, but perhaps the city would offer him something new this time round. With any luck, Inverness would give him a sign.

The views out the window flashed past, and he was in Inverness in what felt like no time at all.

Being in the city was so different from the town that Henry was used to. People didn’t spare him a second glance as they bustled about, and Henry was starting to wonder if he had made a mistake.

It was so overwhelming, suddenly being surrounded by people and buildings, and in a rare moment he got a brief flash of a younger him, feeling uncomfortable amongst a crowd.

Henry didn’t get flashes to his past very often and they never told him anything informative, but after living without _any_ memories of his past, Henry was grateful for anything.

Without a destination in mind, Henry allowed his feet to carry him through the streets, and he eyed up the buildings, looking for anywhere that he might be able to sleep. He might have just enough money to get him a hotel room for the night, but it seemed pointless to waste his money on a bed.

A bark drew Henry out of his thoughts and he looked around until he spotted a dog staring at him, wagging its tail happily.

The dog was a Jack Russell Terrier and it looked like a stray. There was no collar around his neck and his fur was dirty. Oddly, the dog’s tail was forked, but otherwise it looked normal.

“Hi, buddy,” Henry greeted the dog, reaching down to pet it. Henry loved dogs; he had a feeling he had owned one before his memory loss. “Don’t we make a rough looking pair?” Henry laughed and the dog barked happily. “Sorry, I don’t have any food.”

The dog barked again and followed Henry as he started a slow walk down the street.

“I told you, I’ve got no food for you,” Henry said softly, and he was met with another bark. “Fine, you can come along,” he responded with a grin; he really did love dogs. “You need a name though. How about, er, _Snuffles_?”

The dog – Snuffles – barked in acceptance and Harry felt a surge of warmth, as though he knew the name from somewhere. Maybe he really did have a dog before, and maybe it had been called Snuffles.

“Well, Snuffles, it’s getting dark out; let’s find somewhere to sleep for the night.”

Snuffles barked, and ran forwards, stopping to turn around as if he was telling Henry to follow him.

Following a dog may have seemed crazy, but Henry had asked for a sign and it would have been crazier to turn a sign down.

**X**

“Ginny, darling; it is I, the saviour of the Wizarding World. Let us journey on a magical broomstick ride through the clearest skies,” the man on the make shift stage said, twirling around dramatically.

“Next!” The man glared at Draco and shuffled off the stage, muttering something about impossible standards.

Draco did have standards, but they were by no means impossible.

Ever since he had heard about the reward for finding Harry Potter, Draco had decided that he would be the one to do it.

After the end of the war, he and his family had lost everything. They were lucky to escape jail, although his father would remain under house arrest for another five years.

Lucius seemed to be content being under house arrest though, because there was nothing in the world for him anymore. They had lost all of their gold and were given pittance to afford the basic necessities each month. Nobody would hire Draco and he and his mother had been refused service in multiple shops. Knockturn Alley was more accepting of them, but prices down there had rocketed due to the large loss of customers.

Yes, things were rough, but finding Potter would get him 2000 Galleons – Blaise had claimed the other 1000.

Of course, finding the _actual_  Harry Potter was most likely impossible, but that wasn’t enough to stop Draco. He knew how to manipulate things to get what he wanted, and this was something that he definitely wanted.

So with the help of Blaise, they were auditioning people to be a pretend Harry. They were being specific because there was only so much that magic could disguise – hair could be dyed with potions, but the potion would wear off and it was a similar problem with eye colours. They needed someone with roughly the right height and body shape as Potter because that couldn’t be changed, and the same went with age and gender.

Despite the restrictions, they still managed to get a lot of applicants although only a handful actually matched the criteria. The next problem was that the ones who matched physically tended to have something else wrong with them, such as bad acting and bad accents.

It was infuriating, and time was running out. Draco only had just over a month now to train the most suitable applicant on how to _act_ like Potter. Although, apart from timing issues, Draco wasn’t overly worried about the training part because he knew Potter well enough to create the perfect fake one.

“Ready to call it a night?” Blaise asked, as they waved off the last applicant who spoke far too quietly.

“Suppose so,” Draco replied. “Shall we-?”

His words were cut off by a loud bark, and both he and Blaise snapped their heads around to the direction of the sound.

“Was that a dog?” Blaise asked, and Draco nodded.

“Sounded like it. Did you take the wards down?”

They were holding auditions in an abandoned building in Inverness, and had warded the building to stop anything non-magical entering, dogs included.

The dog barked again, and then a man’s voice shouted, “Snuffles, get back here!”

“There wasn’t anyone else due to audition today,” Blaise said as he shifted through the pile of parchment containing the audition information. “We specifically said they had to write to us ahead of time.”

“Check the wards,” Draco ordered, slipping his wand up his sleeve and heading cautiously towards the noise.

He had only taken a few steps forward when a small dog rushed into the room, stopping to jump excitedly at Draco’s legs.

Draco recognised it immediately as a Crup, which meant whoever owned the animal had to be a wizard. Crups, while incredibly loyal to magical people, tended to get vicious around Muggles.

“Snuffles! Leave him alone!” the same mysterious voice came again, this time from within in the room.

Draco looked away from the Crup and towards the man, but his words got lost in his throat.

The man in front of him was Harry Potter. He had the same messy hair, and the bright green eyes; he was skinny and tall, and had aged in the same way that Potter most likely would have. But then Draco saw his forehead, which was entirely scar free. A Potter lookalike then; one of the best in fact, but it wasn’t _the_ Harry Potter.

“Sorry, we’re finished for tonight,” Blaise murmured, eyes still focused on a piece of parchment in his hands. Draco stealthily kicked Blaise’s ankle.

“What?!” Blaise hissed, but then his eyes fell on the newcomer, and his mouth fell open. Draco watched Blaise’s gaze flicker to the man’s forehead, and then drop back down in disappointment.

“I’m sorry, but do we know each other?” the man asked, and that definitely confirmed that it wasn’t Potter. Blaise may have been forgotten by Potter, but there was no way that Draco would be.

“No, you just look a lot like someone I used to know,” Draco answered, casually waving his hand.

“Oh,” the man said, his chapped lips forming a smile circle. “Are you squatting here tonight? I can leave, if you’ve claimed the place.”

“No, we’re not squatting here,” Blaise replied, and he sounded as if he knew what squatting was; Draco had never heard the term before. “I’m just wondering how you managed to get past our wards without us being alerted.”

A flicker of confusion passed over the man’s face. “What are wards?”

Draco exchanged a glance at Blaise. Was this man a Muggle? But he couldn’t be, not if he had a Crup for company. Maybe a Muggle-born who had been kept in the Muggle world by prejudiced or frightened parents.

“What’s your name?” Draco asked, ignoring the stranger’s question.

“Henry; Henry Perth,” the man – Henry – replied. Perth wasn’t a surname Draco recognised, so he was quite possibly a Muggle-born. “Who are you?”

“I’m Draco Malfoy, and this is my associate Blaise Zabini,” Draco said, offering his hand to Henry.

Henry looked at Draco curiously for a second, and then took Draco’s hand, shaking it roughly.

“So if you two aren’t squatting, what are you doing in a dump like this?” Henry queried, pulling the fingerless gloves off his hands. “I haven’t walked into a deal, have I?”

Even Blaise looked unsure as to what that meant.

Fortunately, they were saved from answering thanks to the excited barks of the Crup. Unfortunately, the animal had grabbed the old Daily Prophet article from when Potter fist disappeared, and jumped at his owner’s feet with the newspaper piece in his mouth.

“What’s that, Snuffles?” Henry asked, taking the paper from the Crup. “Blimey, I thought that was me for a second.”

Draco could understand the mistake.

“Is this the guy you meant? Is he still missing?” Henry queried, and both Blaise and Draco nodded. “Five years ago? That’s…well, that’s strange.”

“Strange how?” Draco cut in. “Have you seen him?” _Other than in the mirror_ , Draco thought.

“I woke up in hospital with no memories five years ago,” Henry muttered as he read through the article. “This boy’s hair is nicer though, and I don’t have that scar like he does. Maybe we were brothers.”

 Not bothering to point out that Potter had no brothers, Draco instead said “do you mind if Blaise and I have a quick word in private?”

“Er, go ahead.” Henry shrugged, and dropped down to his knees to pet his Crup while he waited.

“So, what do you think? Reckon we can pull it off with him? I swore it was actually Potter at first,” Draco asked after casting a Privacy Charm around them. He noticed Henry stared at the wand in awe, but that didn’t answer the question as to whether Henry was Muggle, Muggle-born, or even a Squib who had been kept away from the Wizarding World.

“I thought it was Potter too,” Blaise admitted, glancing at the dark-haired man. Henry was currently laughing at the Crup, and Merlin, he had Potter’s smile. “I don’t think he’s got a clue about magic, but I don’t think he could get past our wards, or be that friendly with a Crup if he was a Muggle. We could come up with an excuse for that though, couldn’t we? Say he was jinxed and lost his magic?”

“And we’d need to explain the lack of scar,” Draco pointed out. “It’s the perfect opportunity though; a Harry Potter lookalike who has no memories beyond five years ago, and who doesn’t seem to have much going for him, looking at the state of him. I think he’s our best shot.”

“What do we say to _him,_ though?” Blaise questioned, jerking his head towards Henry.

“Just follow my lead,” Draco answered, dropping the Privacy Charm. “Henry, can we talk to you about something?” Henry nodded, and even his pet seemed to turn his full attention on Draco. “Blaise and I have spoken, because we weren’t sure and didn’t want to alarm you, but we think that you are actually the man in that newspaper article.”

Henry stared at him with comically large eyes.

“You really do look like him, and the dates fit,” Blaise added, managing to bring Henry out of his shock.

“I don’t have that scar,” Henry pointed out, rubbing at his forehead, just like Potter used to do. Draco didn’t doubt that they could pull it off with the right training.

“Scars come, scars go.” Draco shrugged. “It would make sense though, wouldn’t it? Am I right in presuming that you don’t know your family? You thought he could be your brother, but wouldn’t _you_ know that?”

“I never regained my memories from before the hospital,” Henry explained quietly, staring down at the newspaper clipping that was now clenched in his fist. “You really think this might be me?”

“We’re sure of it,” Blaise said with a nod, which made Henry break into a grin.

“So would you two know my-his family? His friends?”

“Actually, your two best friends are still desperately looking for you,” Draco said, making sure to say ‘you’ rather than ‘his’; using the right words was important when trying to talk someone into something. “We’re going down to see them next month, before their wedding. You should come with us.”

“I might not be him,” Henry muttered, frowning. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?” Blaise said gently. “You might find your friends again, and if you don’t, at least you won’t have to live wondering ‘what if?’”

“There is a slight problem though, in that several imposters have been trying to claim the role of you – Harry Potter, by the way – trying to claim money for their service,” Draco stated, ready to close the final part of the deal. “As a result, your friends – Ron and Hermione – are interviewing people who turn up claiming to be Harry, and if you’ve lost your memories, you might be seen as a fake, no matter if you look almost the spitting image. Amnesia is too convenient an excuse, but I knew Harry very well from school, so I’d be able to teach you everything you need to know.”

“Hmm,” Henry hummed, tilting his head and staring at Draco suspiciously. “And what’s in it for you? I’ve learnt from my line of work that nobody ever does anything for free.”

There was suspicion, yes, but Henry sounded like he was considering the opportunity. Now to answer with something that sounded believable, and also a good enough reason.

“Ron has a younger sister named Ginny, and Blaise is hopelessly in love with her,” Draco answered casually, shooting a warning look at Blaise when the man opened his mouth as if to protest. “Unfortunately, Ginny doesn’t know that Blaise exists, but bringing her brother such a wonderful wedding present is sure to get her attention.”

“And you?” Henry looked Draco up and down, pursing his lips. Draco was dressed in a tailored suit, a dark grey one, with smart black shoes and an expensive silver bracelet that was shaped like a snake – needless to say, Draco liked money and expensive things.

“I know Harry far better than Blaise, and so he is paying me a large amount of money for my assistance trying to find him. All we knew was that Inverness was the place to start; we were hoping it would give us a sign, and it certainly did.”

Henry’s lips twitched upwards, and eventually the smile couldn’t stay hidden. It lit up his face, bringing a sparkle to his green eyes. The Crup barked at his owner, which only widened the man’s grin.

“And I thought following a dog would be the craziest thing I’d do today.”

  **X**

High above the three men, the bat decided he had heard enough, and flew away from the rafters and through an open window.

It flew as fast as it could, passing over grey towns and green fields, until it came to a small stone cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade village.

It entered the cottage through the open window, and in one smooth movement, the bat was no more and a man was standing in its place.

“You’re late, Nott,” came a voice from the shadows, demanding an explanation.

“I apologise, Sir,” Nott replied quickly and curtly. His arm throbbed from the last time his boss had been disappointed in him, and he didn’t want to get punished again. “I was stalking the Malfoy heir; I heard he was looking for Potter by holding auditions.”

“And?” the man in the shadows questioned sharply, and Nott knew there was only one answer that the man wanted to hear.

Thankfully, Nott had that answer. “I believe they have found him, Sir. He has no scar and no memories, but Malfoy seemed convinced it was the real Potter. He really did look like him. They were planning to hand Potter over before that Weasley boy’s wedding.”

“Perfect,” the man said, stepping out of the shadows. Rabastan Lestrange was truly a terrifying man, having been driven more insane and sadistic than he used to be by the deaths of his brother and sister-in-law. His skin had taken a sickly grey tone to it, and he had grown out his dark hair, complete with long beard. “Let’s give them a bit of time first; we may as well take out those blood traitors and the Mudblood along with Potter and Malfoy. We’ve waited five long years for this moment, and we’re not going to let this opportunity slip through our grasp.”

**X**

“You have to walk like you think you’re better than everyone else,” Draco explained, while Blaise transcribed on a piece of parchment. Strange bloke, Blaise was, choosing to write with an old-fashioned quill and inkpot rather than a pen.

“Sort of like you then?” Henry retorted with a grin. Blaise snorted, and Draco simply rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched like he was holding an insult back.

Henry had been staying with Draco and Blaise for about a fortnight now, with Draco delivering daily lessons on how Harry Potter acted, what his personality was like, and about his friends and family.

Henry had to admit that he hadn’t truly been listening to _everything_ that Draco said – Draco was just too distracting.

When Henry had first seen the men, he had been struck with a sense of déjà vu, which he couldn’t quite place. Once that had passed, Henry had allowed himself to appreciate the attractiveness of the men standing before him, although Draco was definitely his favourite.

Draco was tall, but not too tall – he was only about an inch taller than Henry – and with pale skin that somehow contrasted wonderfully again his white blond hair. Draco looked like an angel, but he was anything but.

Henry knew a conman when he saw one – he had worked for one, after all – and now that the excitement about the idea had worn off, he didn’t really believe that he was Harry Potter. And he doubted Draco believed it either; but the way Blaise talked, well, Henry didn’t doubt that his love for Ginny was true, even if it was mostly aesthetic. Still, Henry was happy to go along with it, because deep down, he did hope that it was true, and if the people fell for it, Draco could take his payment from Blaise.

Besides, leaving Blaise and Draco now would mean leaving Draco. While Blaise, despite his cold and emotionless exterior, could be a laugh, Henry could live without him, but Draco was another story. It felt like they had known each other for years; not quite friends, but Draco just seemed to feel important to him. Plus, Henry was having a lot of fun winding Draco up, even if Draco did it ten times worse in return.

“I don’t think you could ever pull off _my_ walk,” Draco said, lifting his chin. “I walk with elegance and poise, and you’re just a street rat.”

“Ponce,” Henry muttered under his breath, but his voice held no malice.

“Anyway,” Draco continued with a dramatic sigh. “Potter came from a long line of arrogant people. His father and godfather, especially, caused a lot of trouble for a classmate of theirs who ended up becoming our teacher – his name was Snape.”

The name struck a chord within Henry, but he couldn’t quite place it. That had certainly happened a lot since he had been having these lessons, but he didn’t understand why. Henry reckoned it was just his mind trying to get into character.

“Snape often said that Potter senior strutted about the place like he owned it and expected everyone to bow down and kiss his feet,” Draco told Henry. “Admittedly, Potter was never that bad, but people did bow down to him. So many girls would swoon in his presence, and Potter would just pretend like he didn’t notice or care, but it was obvious he did. That’s how you have to act – stuck up, but hiding the outward signs of it; quite pretentious, really.”

“Why are you doing this, Draco?” Henry asked, feeling a typical ‘Draco rant’ coming on. A Draco rant being when Draco got carried away talking about Potter, ignoring Blaise in the background who would roll his eyes and made crude gestures. “You seem to know a lot about someone you apparently hate.”

Blaise snorted, and Draco shot him a glare.

“I didn’t choose to know all of this!” Draco declared loudly. “Potter just- he infiltrated my life; _without_ my permission, might I add. He was just always there, and we would insult each other and get into fights, and it was hard not to notice him when he was there, acting like he didn’t care that he was famous.”

“Or maybe you just couldn’t admit that you fancied Potter,” Blaise piped up, winking at Henry. “Trust me, Henry, you should have heard him; always going on about Potter’s hair, and his arse. On and on it went, even in bed, and that-”

“Blaise!” Draco hissed. A pale pink had stained his cheeks, and Henry thought it was almost adorable, if not for the fact that Draco looked like he might breathe fire at any moment. “If I were you, I’d be careful how you speak about the only person who can actually get you what you want.”

“I think Blaise could woo Ginny on his own if he wanted,” Henry said, moving over to Blaise and throwing an arm around his shoulder, albeit awkwardly because of how tall Blaise was. “I need a break from these lessons, so feel free to tell me _all_ about Ginny, Blaise.”

Henry cast a look back at Draco, who was glaring darkly at Henry’s arm around Blaise. Perfect.

**X**

Draco, Blaise, Henry, and Snuffles all stared at the burnt out hole in the middle of the wall.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Blaise murmured, before turning back to his paperwork. Snuffles barked in agreement.

Draco ignored his friend and turned his attention to Henry. Draco had been telling Henry about Potter’s anger towards authority figures - government officials and strict teachers in particular - and while practicing shouting, Henry had ended up burning a hole through the wall– using only his bare hands.

Draco and Blaise hadn’t told Henry about magic yet. They weren’t sure how to bring the topic up, because one could never predict how a Muggle-raised wizard would react. Blaise, who had taken Muggle Studies at Hogwarts so he could ‘study the enemy’, had managed to twist everything they told Henry into something that made sense to a Muggle.

Hogwarts had been described as a select, religious boarding school, where Snape had taught as a chemistry teacher, and where Potter had played a game called football. The Dark Lord had been described as a cult leader, and the battle had been described as a regular, non-magical fight.

But now seemed a good a time as any to tell Henry the truth.

“Henry, I feel like now would be a good time to tell you that Blaise and I haven’t been entirely truthful,” Draco started, somewhat confused by the lack of shock on Henry’s face. “You, like me and Blaise, are a wizard.”

“So I’m not crazy then?” Henry grinned, his smile widening when he eyed the hole again. “Oh, I knew I wasn’t imagining things!”

As far as Draco could tell, Henry wasn’t reacting with humour in an attempt to mask his surprise, and that only made the man even more peculiar than he already was. Henry was just _so_ much like Potter, but at the same time he was so different. Aside from the physical similarities, they both had the same sort of character; they both enjoyed infuriating Draco, and they both had a knack for causing surprise. If it wasn’t for the lacking scar and the fact that Henry seemed to like Draco, Draco would have been certain Potter was really there with them.

“So this sort of stuff has happened before?” Draco queried, gesturing towards the hole in the wall.

“Yep,” Henry answered, nodding enthusiastically and scratching the top of his hand distractedly. “Not as big as that, but little things here and there, like making things float and opening things without touching them. I did a bit of research, and guessed I was naturally inclined to Wicca or something, but I’m not good at doing lots of research.” Henry rubbed the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly, and Draco once again was struck by how similar to Potter he was.

“Well, we do have some traditions based on Paganism, but most of our spells are formed from Latin. Hogwarts is actually a magical school where we learnt all about it, but I’ll tell you about that later,” Draco said. “I want to try you with a wand first, and will you stop itching your hand?!”

“It stings,” Henry groaned, and Draco could see that the skin beneath his fingers had turned bright red. “Don’t you have some cream or something?”

“Potter wouldn’t ask for cream,” Draco corrected. “He would put up with the pain until it got too much, and then be heralded as a wonderfully brave hero. Now, here; take my wand, and Blaise? What spell would be the safest?”

“Safe?” Henry scoffed. “I thought Harry Potter lived for danger, although I suppose you come across as more boring than that.”

Henry grinned again, so infuriating and so cute. Draco inwardly groaned at that thought; thoughts of that type were coming far too frequently.

Draco decided to ignore the dig at him. “Good to see you remember what we’ve told you. That sort of comment would definitely convince people about your identity. Now, what shall we try? Lumos, perhaps?”

“Fire risk,” Blaise commented.

“Wingardium Leviosa?” Draco tried.

“Risk of explosion,” Blaise stated dryly. “What?” he exclaimed at Draco’s questioning look. “Finnigan managed it.”

“Finnigan doesn’t count; he makes everything explode,” Draco retorted, pleased when Henry nodded in agreement – he was definitely remembering the important details about Potter’s life. “Alohomora?”

Blaise nodded, and went to lock the door.

“Alright, Henry; aim the wand at the door, and say ‘ _Alohomora_ ’,” Draco directed. “It should unlock it.”

Henry did as he was told, looking both excited and apprehensive, but rather than unlocking the door, the key hole simply melted and Henry hissed in pain, clutching a hand over his forehead.

“Does magic normally cause headaches?” Henry asked, his voice strained.

Draco shook his head. Henry, like Potter, was a bit of a mystery. It didn’t make sense that the man was a wizard who had never learnt the truth until now. Or maybe he had until he lost his memories. Either way, the situation was made more unusual by the fact that Henry hadn’t been entirely blocked from using magic, seeing as he had had accidental outbursts in the past, but using a wand caused him pain.

And looking at Henry now, with his wild dark hair contrasting beautifully against his pale skin, and with an unsure expression on his face, Draco found himself falling deeper and deeper for the man. Draco wondered if he could have developed feelings for Potter had he gotten to know him better. Seeing the vulnerability in Henry made him more human, while the mysterious side of him kept Draco entranced. Potter had been very mysterious too.

But unlike Potter, Henry was a mystery that, with a bit of hard work, would be solved. Henry would transform into Harry Potter, his friends would accept him into their lives, and Draco would be a hero. And as for Henry – his past would haunt him no more, and he would be granted a new life.

Draco ignored the nagging feeling in his heart that didn’t want to let Henry go.

**X**

“Bill Weasley,” Henry stated, as Draco slid the photograph towards him with the redhead’s face on it. Seeing wizarding photos that moved had definitely been a fun discovery about the magical world. With a sigh, he carried on naming the people in the photos that Draco kept passing to him. “Albus Dumbledore, Tonks, Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin. Can’t we stop now? I reckon I know all of this.”

“Just checking,” Draco answered with a smirk.

They would be going to the Weasley residence tomorrow, and Draco and Blaise had taught Henry everything that they thought he should know. It was strange, learning all about a person’s life in order to be accepted as said person; it was like he knew Harry Potter, but there was also a strange distance between them.

It would be a wonder if he managed to remember everything tomorrow though, because Henry hadn’t been sleeping well. He kept having nightmares where the faces were blurry, and every time he would wake up with pain shooting across his forehead.

Henry still hadn’t managed to use a wand properly, no matter how much theory they drilled into his head. Blaise reasoned that whatever affected his memory must have affected his magic, and Henry decided it was as good a theory as any.

Now, if only they could theorise _why_ he lost his memory; that would be useful.

“What if they don’t believe us?” Henry asked Draco, who looked affronted at the question.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Draco retorted. “I’ve trained you well enough to act like Potter, so I don’t see there being a problem. Now; tell me who is in this final photo.”

“No,” Henry huffed, flipping the photograph over. “The answer you _should_ have given was that they would believe it because I _am_ Harry Potter, just like you said I was. But I know you don’t believe that.”

“I-”

“I’m not angry,” Henry told the blond truthfully. “I know riches and fame entices a lot of people; I personally don’t understand why, but what I do understand is that people will say _anything_ that can get them glory. Don’t worry though; I’ll still go with you, on the off chance that you were right all along.”

“You’re so righteous, it’s ridiculous,” Draco scowled, but his lips quickly turned into a small smile. “You really are so much like Potter, you know. _That_ much is the truth, trust me on that.”

“I don’t trust you, but I think that just makes you more trustworthy. It’s safer expecting deceit from the start,” Henry laughed, leaning over the table so his face was inches from Draco’s.

For all his stuck up mannerisms and complimentary insults, Henry was really going to miss Draco. They had no reason to stay together, no matter how the interview with Ron and Hermione went, and that thought hurt more than it should have. When you spent time in the industry Henry had, you learnt it was too dangerous to grow close to people, but he had gone and ignored that advice.

“It’s Sirius Black, by the way,” Henry murmured when his lips were almost on Draco’s. “The photograph, I mean. You have his eyes; different colour, but otherwise the same.”

“We’re cousins, down the line,” Draco replied, shifting his hand to lay over one of Henry’s. “Your hand is burning.”

“That’s not all,” Henry whispered, cringing at his awkwardness. Better to keep his mouth shut - or on someone else’s, perhaps.

They were so close, Henry could feel the warmth radiating from Draco, but before they could fully connect, a furry mass jumped into the gap between their bodies, and barked loudly.

Both men jolted backwards, and Snuffles looked far too pleased with himself.

“Anyway, I need to go and talk to Blaise about something,” Draco muttered hastily, jumping to his feet and knocking the table in the process. “I’ll…yeah.” And then he strode briskly out of the room.

“I have a feeling you did that on purpose,” Henry told the dog, looking at it seriously. “Still, I suppose it was nice to see Mr. Prim and Proper get into a fluster, and who could stay mad at you with those big eyes staring at them?”

Henry grinned, and Snuffles barked happily.

“I was thinking, Snuffles, maybe I should change your name to Draco,” Henry continued, absentmindedly petting the animal. “That way I can keep at least one Draco with me.”

Snuffles just looked at Harry pityingly.

**X**

“How can they not want to see him?” Draco asked angrily of the Ministry official in front of them. He waved his hand up and down in front of Henry’s body. “Look at him; he’s the spitting image of Potter.”

“While I won’t deny that you have done impressive work, you can imagine the disguises that people have pulled off,” the man told them dismissively. “Granger and Weasley have decided to close the investigation; they’ve just had too many people trying to trick them. They’re tired of the constant heartache, and who can blame them?”

“But he’s the real deal!” Draco declared, ignoring the twinge of guilt in his stomach.

“Mr. Malfoy, you cannot deny that _you_ in particular are hard to believe,” the man replied, with a glance down at Draco’s covered arm.

Not that Draco was proud of his Dark Mark, but at least a few years ago people would tremble in terror at the sight of it. Yes, people nowadays had a right to be angry towards Death Eaters, but it wasn’t like Malfoy had _chosen_ the Death Eater life. It was his young age and Luna Lovegood, of all people’s, testimony that kept him out of Azkaban, after all. He had hardly been a criminal.

“Now, if you can please leave the premises,” the official stated, shooing them away with his hands. “Or else I will be forced to take action.”

“Fine,” Draco grumbled, leading the group away from the odd shack that the Weasleys called a home.

“Now what are we going to do?” Blaise asked, glancing around the area. “Shall we take out the official? Or should we sneak in?”

“You don’t need to do either of those things,” a woman said, and Draco watched suspiciously as Ginny Weasley came into view.

“Ginny!” Blaise said loudly, his eyes wide. Draco had suspected that the lie he had told Henry about Blaise being in love with the youngest Weasley wasn’t actually far off the truth.

“Blimey,” Ginny exclaimed, taking in the sight of Henry. “I swore you were Harry for a second. Definitely the best I’ve seen; it’s a shame you don’t have the scar.”

“Scars fade,” Draco said quickly, and Blaise nodded in agreement. Henry, on the other hand, had gone rather pale and quiet, and even his Crup was looking up at him in concern.

“I suppose you’re right,” Ginny replied. “So I’ll give you a shot. Tell me about you – or Harry, I mean. Give me a reason to think that you’re the real deal.”

Henry glanced nervously at Draco, who gave him an encouraging nod.

“I woke up in a Muggle hospital five years ago with no memories,” Henry said, using the story that Draco and Blaise had concocted to make the truth sound more believable. “They found me a couple of weeks ago, and managed to give me my memories back, although my magic is still broken.”

“Broken?” Ginny queried, raising a brow.

“I can kind of do magic, but not very well,” Henry told her. “Using magic gives me a headache. But I know that I was raised by my Muggle Aunt and Uncle, and my cousin Dudley.”

“Where did you sleep?” Ginny asked; a rather odd question, Draco thought.

Henry scrunched up his eyes, and shook his head. “A bed? A cupboard, maybe. Sorry, since I got here, I’ve had all these hazy images flashing through my mind.”

“A side-effect from the Obliviate curse,” Blaise said quickly, although Ginny didn’t really pay attention to him. She was too busy staring at Henry, and her expression was unreadable. Draco wasn’t sure why, because who knew where Henry had got an image of sleeping in a cupboard from.

“Go on,” Ginny said slowly, casting a suspicious look at Draco.

“I had a Godfather - Sirius Black – who was an Animagus. He could turn into a black dog,” Henry continued, his eyes still scrunched shut. “Me and Ron became friends on the first day of school, and made friends with Hermione after we fought a troll together.”

“Look,” Ginny interrupted, and Draco found himself unable to look at her, and the pain on her face. “There has to be something – just one thing – that only Harry and those closest to him would know. Please.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t…wait! I- I can see them better now; the blurry faces!” Henry declared suddenly, and his bright eyes snapped open. “There was an ugly woman, and there was blood dripping down my face, and a blond haired man sent me away so he could save my life.”

Draco swore that his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. No! It couldn’t be!

Draco had never told anyone about what happened between him and Potter on the day that Potter disappeared. He had managed to escape the rogue Death Eaters, and then returned to the Great Hall, talking loudly near Longbottom about how he had overheard Potter saying he was going to get some peace by escaping to a field on the outskirts of Craig Phadrig Woods, right near the water.

Of course, Potter wasn’t there when his friends turned up, and Draco had never dared tell anyone what had occurred between them beforehand, out of fear of being blamed.

So the only way Henry could know that, was if he had been there.

Merlin! Draco had been telling the truth all along. The amnesiac Henry was Harry Potter!  It all made sense now; how similar they were, both in looks and personality. The only thing that didn’t add up was the missing scar, but when the hag had attacked Potter, she had done something to his forehead. It must have had something to do with her.

Draco opened his mouth, not quite sure what to say. Weasley would think he was lying if he announced that Henry – Harry – was telling the truth about the hag story.

But then Harry spoke instead.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time, Ginny,” he said.

And then he broke into a run, with Snuffles running behind him.

Draco did the only thing he could think of – he started running too.

**X**

Henry could hear hurried footsteps behind him, but he didn’t look back.

Despite his apprehension, he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, he truly was Harry Potter. But after seeing the pain on Ginny’s face, and the constant barrage of blurred images and the pain that kept shooting through his head, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

He had allowed himself to get his hopes up, and it was his own fault. If he had gone in expecting the worst, he wouldn’t have been disappointed.

“Harry!”

Henry only stopped because it was Draco.

“You can quit with the act now,” Henry said, placing his hand on his hip. “It’s over; I’m sorry.”

“No!” Draco shouted, taking Henry by surprise; Draco never showed pure emotion. “You are Harry Potter. I was there when that hag attacked you – I was the blond man.”

Could it be true? Henry couldn’t quite place the face of that man in his mind, but who was to say that Draco wasn’t lying now? Henry didn’t want to risk getting his hopes up again.

“And Ginny! She seemed to react when you mentioned about the cupboard,” Draco continued, while Snuffles jumped excitedly by his feet. “I didn’t know about that, but you obviously did. Please, just trust me this one time.”

And Henry did.

“Draco, I-”

His words were drowned out by an incomprehensible shout, and Henry had enough time to push Draco aside and duck as a green light flashed towards them.

Draco’s wand was out in an instant.

“ _Stupefy_!” Draco yelled, aiming at a man who was swamped in dark robes.

The man went down, but another appeared, firing more jets of green light towards them.

Draco aimed at the new man but missed, and then the stranger had the upper hand.

“ _Expelliarmus_!” he shouted, sending Draco’s wand flying out of his hand.

“Rabastan,” Draco muttered, glaring darkly at their attacker.

“I’ve wanted to kill you for a long time,” Rabastan growled at Draco, not noticing Henry edging towards the discarded wand. “You always were a bratty kid. Pity you didn’t find the real Potter, but there’s no use leaving witnesses.”

That drew Rabastan’s eyes to Henry, and he froze for a moment, hand poised above the wand.

Rabastan’s lips curled, but as he raised his wand at Henry, Snuffles leapt towards the man and sank his teeth into his leg. Rabastan roared in pain, trying to shake the dog off, but Snuffles was holding on tight.

With the momentary distraction, Henry picked the wand up, and felt a warmth spread through his fingers.

Draco was looking at him, holding his hands out ready to catch the wand, but with adrenaline racing through him, a moment of recklessness overcame Henry, and he aimed the wand at Rabastan instead, and said the spell that seemed to be racing through his mind.

“ _Stupefy_!”

Henry had enough time to see the man crumple to the floor as the spell hit him, and then a strange feeling overtook him.

It wasn’t painful, but his skin tingled, and his forehead had gone icy cold.

And then it hit him – he _was_ Harry Potter. He remembered everything – from being chased by Aunt Marge’s dog, to watching Hagrid give Dudley a pig’s tail. He remembered meeting Draco in Diagon Alley, seeing his parents in the mirror of Erised, and the night he met his Godfather. He remembered going to the Forbidden Forest to die, and he remembered coming back to life. Most importantly, he remembered a hag cursing him, and Draco saving his life.

And now Draco had saved his life yet again.

“Harry! Harry!” a voice called, and Harry felt a wave of overwhelming happiness wash over him as Ron and Hermione ran towards him.

He was crushed in a tight hug by them both, and he didn’t care that he was freely weeping with joy. Harry hadn’t lived a perfect life as Henry, but he had got by. But still, to be himself again was fantastic, and being back with the people he loved was indescribable; he reckoned he could make the strongest Patronus possible with this memory.

But later on, when Harry was sat in the Burrow, being hugged over and over again, and beaming from ear to ear, he found himself missing Draco.

**X**

“I still can’t believe you didn’t wait to get the money,” Blaise moaned for the umpteenth time since they left the Weasley residence the previous day. “Wasn’t that the whole point of this? Please explain to me how, after returning the _actual_  Harry Potter, you leave without the reward!”

“Blaise,” Draco said warningly. “Shut up!”

Blaise grumbled something under his breath, but Draco didn’t care.

He still couldn’t believe that he had discovered the real Harry Potter. But more importantly than that, he couldn’t believe that he had fallen in love with Harry Potter, and he couldn’t believe that he had let him go. Although, the letting him go part had been the thing that made Draco accept his feelings. Merlin, his head hurt.

“Well I’m going out, so you can mope about on your own,” Blaise announced, getting to his feet. “Ginny invited me to the wedding.”

“Great,” Draco muttered sarcastically, and Blaise rolled his eyes before walking off.

Draco sat in his chair for a long while, not feeling the need to move, when a knock sounded at the door. He tried to ignore it, but the person knocked again and again until Draco couldn’t take it anymore.

“What?!” he hissed as he yanked the door open, but his anger and sorrow vanished instantly at the sight of Harry standing before him. The scar was back on his head, and a scar Draco had never noticed before went across the back of one of his hands, looking like words. “Come in.”

He led Harry to the sitting room, and gestured for Harry to take a seat. Draco pulled a chair up opposite him, and they said in silence for a moment.

“Draco, I wanted to thank you,” Harry said, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. “I know it had always been more about the money for you, but without you, I’d still be wandering the streets of Inverness. You gave me my family back, and I’m forever grateful.”

“You’re welcome,” Draco replied, not sure what else to say. Yes, it had been about the money, especially at first, but, by the end of it, it was enough for Draco to reunite Harry back with his friends.

“I’d like to invite you to Ron and Hermione’s wedding,” Harry blurted out, as if he was too nervous to think about what he was doing.

Draco blinked. “I wouldn’t think they’d want me there.”

“Of course they do; in their words, you gave them the greatest gift possible,” Harry declared with a nervous laugh. “But I want you there too. I, well, I guess I miss you, and I know you’ll probably think that’s stupid but-”

“It’s not stupid,” Draco cut in. “Merlin, I forgot that you’re so socially awkward at times.” He laughed, but it died out at the sensual but nervous look that Harry was giving him.

“Lucky Ginny didn’t ask me to try and flirt with you before, if you forgot that crucial detail,” Harry grinned. “Not that I’m doing a good job of flirting now.”

“Not really,” Draco agreed.

Harry shrugged. “I always was more of a practical person.”

And then Harry rose from his seat and crossed the small space between them until he was sat on Draco’s lap, with his thighs straddling Draco’s legs.

Draco’s hands automatically moved to Harry’s waist, sliding underneath his shirt. Harry’s skin was warm and smooth, and Draco never wanted to let him go.

Harry lowered his head, his straggly hair falling over Draco’s face, but he stopped before their lips touched.

“This is alright, yeah?” Harry asked, the movement of his mouth teasing Draco madly. “Because-”

The rest of his words were drowned out as Draco brought their mouths together and kissed him firmly. Despite Harry’s lips being dry and chapped, Draco thought kissing Harry was perfect. Feeling Harry’s warm weight on top of him, with Harry’s hands wound in his hair, was exhilarating, and all of Draco’s previous negative thoughts seemed a million miles away.

“You know,” Harry said as they broke apart for air, “we still have just over an hour before we have to be at the wedding.”

“I think I know a good way we can spend the time,” Draco smirked, dropping his hands to grope Harry’s arse.

“Alright,” Harry said with a grin. “I trust you.”

~

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